


A Rocky Start

by JaKedeSnaKe



Series: Life in the Perseus Arm [3]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, Birth, F/F, Family, Feral Gems (Steven Universe), Future Fic, Gem Egg Hell, Gemlings, Geodes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 23:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20144023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaKedeSnaKe/pseuds/JaKedeSnaKe
Summary: A feral peridot/lapis lazuli pair welcome their final gemling into the world.





	A Rocky Start

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of my feral lapis lazuli/peridot egg hell fic

The rolling blue forests of this alien planet were broken by series of bluffs. Along the base of one of those bluffs was a small hole three feet wide. It was obviously made by some sort of animal, as there were scratch marks around its entrance, along with piles of dirt around the entrance. The hole was part of a tunnel that opened into a den some 10 feet deep. Residing in the middle of that den was a nest.

Five new beings had just been brought into this world that morning. Five tiny gemlings who had hatched from their geodes only minutes ago. Three tiny lapis’s and two peridots curled up into little balls beside each other on a seven-foot wide bedding made of fresh leaves, twigs, and moss. It was diligently assembled and manicured by their parents, a lapis lazuli and a peridot, in their anticipation. Some of the gemlings exhibited purely peridot or lapis lazuli features, while others were more mixed. For example, a peridot had some light blue streaks across her chest, while the hair of one lapis was almost slightly triangular in shape. They had all spent several months forming within geode shells, which were colored different shades of blue and green. None of the gemlings were larger in size than a human hand. All of their eyes were closed, and their hands were balled up into little fists. None had yet to develop their ears or noses. They were all tired, just having escaped from the bounds of their geodes, and were resting silently in their nest. Occasionally one would release a tiny yawn, only to nestle itself in between its sisters once more.

The carrier - the peridot - sat licking the gemlings while they slept. She cleaned them of the embers of light that had surrounded them while they incubated within the geode. Some of them chirred cries of protest at being interrupted while sleeping, while others were too tired to care. The lapis - the sire - sat nearby, near the exit of the den into the tunnel. The peridot was full of motherly instincts, and refused to have her mate near her brood. Nonetheless, the lapis sat staring with pride and approval at her newly hatched clutch. Her brood had all hatched successfully, and all the gemlings were healthy and out of their geodes.

All but one.

In the corner of the nest, a couple feet away from the sleeping pile of hatchlings, was another geode - the runt’s. It was small, much smaller than the rest at about a third of their size. The geode was colored a deep shade of blue, marked with sky blue stripes. 

The lapis eyed the egg from the exit with great concern. She hoped that it would hatch soon, she thought. It didn’t look like a stillborn geode, its colors were bright and vibrant, not dull like a stillborn’s. It must be late to hatch, the lapis concluded. Hopefully. In the meantime the peridot sat cleaning her brood, while the lapis watched affectionately.

All of a sudden the geode started to give off a brilliant glow. The lapis turned towards it with a jerk. The peridot looked up from cleaning the second youngest of the litter, a peridot. Finally, the peridot thought with parental glee, my youngest is hatching!

But something was wrong. No cracks had begun to appear on the surface of the runt’s geode. Its light started to slowly flicker. Then the geode’s glow slowly began to fade. 

The peridot noticed with horror that her geode was starting to die, and she frantically began pawing at it in a futile attempt to try and help it spawn. The lapis, noticing her efforts, suddenly got up from its squatting position by the den’s exit and intervened between the geode and the peridot. Her back was arched, and it was letting off a low growl. The peridot, initially taken back, hissed and assumed an offensive stance, prepared to battle her mate in order to get to her gemling. They stared at each other, hissing and growling in an attempt to get the other to back down. The five gemlings that had hatched were awoken by the commotion and began to cry, wriggling and squirming in the nest. The lapis, still engaging in a staring contest, made a motion with her foot and pushed the unhatched geode behind her away from the peridot. She made sure to make a show of looking back and forth between the peridot and the geode, uttering quieter growls of frustration and desperation. Suddenly the peridot stopped hissing, let go of its offensive stance, and retreated back to its spot in the nest.

The lapis was in no way trying to harm the geode. She was only reminding her mate that the gemling needed to hatch on its own, regardless of the state of its geode. It needed to build up as much strength as it could by summoning itself through its geode in order to survive its lengthy process of growing. Hatching was also a delicate process, and interference with the geode could cause the hatchling to fail to form completely. Sometimes, desperate mothers choose to ignore such rules and try to forcefully hatch the geode. The peridot, now having been reminded it was unwise to try to help, moved back to where she was in the nest and began to soothe her still-crying babies.

The lapis had succeeded in giving the hatchling a chance to form on its own. Nonetheless, in her mind she had already concluded that it was going to die. She turned from her mate and eyed the dying geode with sadness. Why was it always the runt that had the highest chance to die? At least it was only one this time, she sadly concluded, referencing the unfortunate members of the dozens of litters she had sired with various other mates over the past 5,300 years. 

Suddenly the geode began to glow again, this time brighter than before. A rift formed in the middle of the geode’s surface and slowly began to spread vertically, separating the geode in two. Like a tuna can being rolled back, the shells on either side of the rift were pulled back in opposite directions. As the shells were pulled back the geode slowly began to reveal the tiny lapis. It had a tiny, scrunched, ember-covered face, and its body was curled up into a fetal position. When the geode finally disappeared after folding into itself, all that was left was the hatchling, which laid peacefully on the nest’s bedding.

The lapis gawked at the lying hatchling in shocked disbelief, while the peridot looked on lovingly and with great relief. She creeped up to the gemling and, using her teeth, carefully picked it up by the scruff of its neck. She moved back to where she previously was in the nest, immediately next to her other gemlings, and began cleaning the lapis runt of any light embers. The lapis runt, already tired from forming, let out only one quiet cry of protest.

“Ree!”, the tiny gemling managed to let out, but that did nothing to deter her loving mother. The peridot continued to lick the lapis, removing the embers of light from her face, arms, legs, chest, and back. Once the peridot was satisfied, she gingerly laid the lapis runt next to her siblings. Upon recognizing that her youngest sister finally joined her, a peridot shimmied over to the lapis and embraced her with her tiny green arms, and a small loving “Pii” escaped from her mouth.

The peridot looked on with parental pride. Suddenly she let out a yawn, being sure not to wake up her gemlings with her yawning. Staying up all night monitoring her geodes and later cleaning her gemlings had tired her. She let out another quieter yawn before laying herself down into the nest and closing her eyes. Opening one eye, she saw her mate staring at her from the den’s exit with anticipation. The peridot let out a call of approval for her entering, and the lapis happily moved into the nest and nestled herself next to her mate. The pair soon joined their gemlings in deep slumber.

Outside the earthen den was one of the thousands of blue trees spread across this alien planet. Except this one was different. One of the blue bulbous leaves facing the den looked . . . off. It did look mostly like the other leaves growing on the tree, although. The “leaf,” however, didn’t grow on that tree: it was placed there. Inside the center of the leaf wasn’t plant fiber, but rather electronic wiring. On the surface of the leaf, carefully camouflaged, was a small lens belonging to a camera. It was capable of picking up any and every minute detail that crossed its field of view, and its solar-powered, energy efficient battery ensured that it ran 24/7.

Someone was watching them.


End file.
